My Mafia Father




I once sat down on my couch and reminisced with myself about my childhood. I remember going to school dressed in my Brooks Brother's Suit on the first day to impress the cute girl. Her name was Delilah. I remember playing outside with my neighbor Jim. I remember running out to the lake behind my house and finding a frog. That same day I nearly gave my mother a heart attack asking if we could keep it, and name it Oliver.


I remember my pup. Speedy was his name. I always thought the name was kind of cliché and ironic. His name was Speedy, but he was quite fat, and he seemed to have nothing to do. He was always really lazy, and he just sat around all day until it was time for him to eat or drink more. He used to howl at me if I pet him wrong, or if he wanted my attention. I would have rather had a pet frog named Oliver. But thinking of my old pup makes me think of my old pop. He used to work at... well I honestly didn't know back then. He left home late, and came home early. I never imagined my pop really “working”. He only left the house with a suit once. I remember what he said to my ma that day. With and excited voice, he said, “Honey, I'm finally getting' made! I'm gon'a be a made man!” I never knew what that meant back then


But now that I think about my old pop, he reminds me of my old pup. Pop was fat, and never had anything to do. Like Speedy. Pop was always really lazy. Like Speedy. Pop didn't do anything until it was time for my ma to come by and give him his dinner or his beer. Like Speedy. If he wanted my attention, he'd yell at me, “Phillip, get'cha useless ass ov'r he'a!”. Almost like my howling dog. Speedy.


I used to think my pop was a genius. But then again, we all did at some point. Daddy used to know everything, right? Yeah, I used to think my dad knew everything, until it became clear that my father was a failure. A dead beat. I'm just glad the old useless hag is gone forever.



Swimming with the fishes.